


Read for me

by mee4ever



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Powers, College Student Stiles, Famous Derek, First Dates, First Kiss, First Meetings, Fluff, M/M, POV Stiles, Secrets, Writer Derek Hale, slight intoxication, talking about sex, they're just enjoying each other's company ok and it's cute and mushy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-03
Updated: 2017-05-03
Packaged: 2018-10-27 14:04:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,497
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10810521
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mee4ever/pseuds/mee4ever
Summary: “Would you… read a chapter for me?” Derek’s gaze snaps up to Stiles so fast Stiles think the other man might have broken his own neck. One of his eyebrows are dangerously arched.“Excuse me?” Stiles almost loses his balance under the stare and frantically rubs the back of his head.“I mean, I just- I’d love for you to read some for me. If you want. Remember I said I have wine?” He points towards the kitchen, tries to avert the situation and alcohol is literally the only thing he can think of. He wants Derek to stay, not find him a freak and he desperately doesn't want to offend him on the first date.Or the one where Stiles manages to get a date withDerek Haleand Stiles asks him to read out of his own book, not only for the reason that Stiles likes his voice.





	Read for me

**Author's Note:**

> Completely unbetad.  
> [Complimentary tumblr post](http://free-to-be-no-one-but-mee.tumblr.com/post/160270218779/would-you-read-a-chapter-for-me-dereks-gaze)  
> Before you ask, no there will not be any more.

“You know me,” Derek says and his face turns slightly less expressive.

Stiles knows _a lot about_ him; Stiles slavishly follows every series Triskele Studios ever participates in the making of, for no other reason than the fact that the company’s producer and writer, Derek Hale, has magic in his mind and spurts out show after show with top of the line quality. Stiles had been fifteen when it all started, when Derek joined the crew of _Wolves among us_ at the tender age of twenty-two and the whole world fell at his feet. Since then, everything has gone great for the mysterious Mr Hale and his fantasy series. One after the other got picked up and now, eight years later, _Wolves among us_ is far over (the ending had Stiles crying for several hours because one can’t just kill off the comic relief character in the last fucking episode) but no one seemed to have any time to waste, especially not Derek, in finding new projects for him. Derek now produces _The Druid Emissary_ , _Tracy - the first Chimera,_ _Heartbeats, Lone Wolf_ and _Eichen House - The tales of the asylum._ Stiles is definitely not sitting here by the bar, freaking out over the fact that he’s talking to Derek Hale.

“I know _of_ you, but I would jump on the chance to _get to know_ you,” Stiles says, because his mouth doesn't understand nerves, and he throws in a wink just for good measure and the other man’s face goes completely unreadable; more like Stiles is used to seeing him in pictures. For being famous and in the eye of the public, Derek Hale is a very closed off person and never seems to share much about his personal life. He never brings dates to anything, there has never been a candid of him with potential love interests, there is nothing in his interviews to prove either that there is or isn’t someone in his life. And that is just the partner side of things. There is little else about the rest of his life as well, family, friends, anyone, _anything_ like that. Everything is just really... secretive. It’s probably why Stiles is managing this conversation somewhat normally, because he _doesn’t_ know Derek.

“I’m sorry,” Stiles says and reaches out his hand. “I’m acting thoroughly impolite; Stiles Stilinski.” Derek hesitates for a second before bringing out his own hand and fitting it in Stiles’. “Aren’t you gonna introduce yourself? “

“What’s the point? You already know my name.”

Stiles shrugs. “Fair.” Then he gets down to business. “Okay, so: I have the shortest attention span this world has seen, I talk too much and my dad is a cop. Like. With a gun. He’s told my partners in the past that he’s not afraid to use it.”

“Okay?”

“I just thought it would be good that you know three not so great things about me before you agree on dating me.”

“I… wait, what?”

“What three good things about me there are? Let's see… I am a mean cook, you really should try my bolognese because, maaaan… I’m _very_ pliable in bed… What else? AH! I have also on several occasions been told I’m “very funny” and I think _most_ of them weren’t being sarcastic.”

“Who are you?”

“Stiles,” Stiles repeats slowly, “Stilinski. I’m a bit offended you don’t remember though I told you mere minutes ago. It’s an unusual name but it’s also easy so you really should remember it.” He gives Derek a couple of seconds before saying, “Won’t you look at that: I’ve made you confused and frightened in minutes, must be a record for the man with literally one emotion, that being “brood”, which I, for the record, don’t even think is an _emotion_ but a state of being and-”

“Quiet,” Derek says, almost panicky.  

Stiles bites his lips and looks around for a few seconds. Then he lets out a fast breath and says, “Nah, no can do no more. Talking is _my_ state of being.”

“What do you want?”

“I’ve already told you; jeez, I think I know who’s got the _real_ concentration problems here and it ain’t me. I want to get to know you.”

“So… why are you talking about yourself?”

“Ah… maybe it is because I’m self-centered, which I wouldn’t say is the most probable explanation; maybe it’s because I want to even the playfield, seeing as we both know I already know way more trivial things about you than you know about me; or maybe it is because I’m super nervous because you’re Derek Hale and on the inside I’m fangirling over meeting you. I don’t know, many possibilities.”

“I have… no words.”

“To be expected, I’m quite a lot to take in, what with my charming wits and gorgeous face.” Stiles lets another few seconds pass. “You like it, though,” he says then.

Derek cocks his head and raises an eyebrow. “I do? What makes you say that?”

“You know how my dad is a cop? Yeah, I take after him.”

Stiles takes a sip of his drink as Derek asks, “You a cop?”

“HA! I wish. I’m in college. And before you freak out about any age difference, I’m twenty-three, so I’m a total mess, at loss on what to do with my life and I’ve never done a productive thing in my entire life. Now you can freak out, thanks for waiting.” Derek doesn’t freak out and Stiles makes a “good on you”-sort of face and maybe would've thrown in a high five if Derek hadn’t spoken.

“Okay,” he says.

Stiles loses slight track of everything. “Okay? Like ‘okay okay’?” And Derek Hale, looking away, features scolded into nothingness, nods. Freaking _nods_. “Wow,” Stiles says and shakes himself. “Okay, I had not expected this really, I think we should drink for a while so I can have a moment to collect myself. I never thought you’d say yes.”

Derek gives him a glance. “Why? ‘Cause you’re a bloke?”

“Nah, you have some of the… _vibe,_ ” Stiles says and wiggles his fingers towards Derek and the other man this time raises both his eyebrows, like he didn’t even know he gave out _that_ vibe. “Just that you’re… very known to _not_ do that sorta thing. You know, _dating._ ”

“Ah.”

And Stiles feels like maybe that was the wrong thing to say, so he quickly adds, “But apparently my hot bod made you change your mind so Imma be silently proud over that; just gonna sit here, bask.”

It makes Derek snort and then raises his glass for a toast for which makes Stiles grin like a motherfucker. Stiles gets out one of his cards.

“Dress casual,” he says, and flips it over to Derek who nods. Stiles turns around and leaves before he can blurt something about Derek not wearing _anything at all_.

~~

‘Casual’ à la Derek Hale is: dark jeans, a white henley and a tight fitted leather jacket and on top of it all he wears a pair of expensive sunglasses. Stiles almost winces because he looks like he’s just stepped out of a movie and Stiles wears two different patterned socks.

“Where are we going?” Derek asks, like they’ve done this a million times already and nothing is wrong. _C’mon, Derek_ , Stiles thinks, _everything has already gone to shit._ But that thought somehow makes things easier. Maybe it can’t be worse than this.

“I was actually,” Stiles starts and points into the apartment, “thinking we could stay in? I’ve got wine.” At first Derek frowns, but then his features soften and Stiles manages to breathe. Worrying about where to take Derek had been days worth of long-suffering and he’d finally settled on nowhere because that’s where Derek usually goes on dates as far as Stiles can tell. Because he doesn’t go on dates.

Stiles takes a step back and lets the other man in. The woosh of cologne that hits Stiles straight in the face as Derek passes makes Stiles everything _but_ straight.

That’s when Derek turns around and deadpans, “Do you expect to get laid?” Suddenly he looks on edge, not in his face - which is as expressionless as it only can - but in his stance. His shoulders are squared, he’s leaning slightly forward and his arms are crossed over his chest. He looks intimidating. Stiles is instantly turned the fuck on.

“Ehm, what? _Now?”_ Stiles asks.

“Yes. Now. Tonight.” Derek squints.

“No, I… do not, not that I would mind, but no, I had not expected that. No.” He stammers, but he really hadn’t thought that would be on the table.

“Good.” With that, Derek turns around again while shrugging off his jacket and goes to explore the apartment. Stiles accomplishes closing the door and lean against it while taking a couple of deep breaths; calming the anxiety to a manageable level. He feels like everything he says are answers to a test Derek is putting him through and the only thing that makes Stiles not freak out is that it seems like so far he’s answered every question correctly. With his heart thumping in a little bit slower pace, he follows in Derek’s footsteps.

There is exactly _one_ book in all of Stiles’ apartment at the moment and of course, Derek managed to find it first thing. He's already plucked it out of the shelf and flipped it open somewhere in the middle when Stiles enters the living room. Stiles stops in the doorway, watching him and fearing that this might have been a very, very bad idea but there's nothing he can do about it so he takes a deep breath and goes for it.

“Would you… read a chapter for me?” Derek’s gaze snaps up to Stiles so fast Stiles think the other man might have broken his own neck. One of his eyebrows is dangerously arched.

“Excuse me?” Stiles almost loses his balance under the stare and frantically rubs the back of his head.

“I mean, I just- I’d love for you to read some for me. If you want. Remember I said I have wine?” He points towards the kitchen, tries to avert the situation and alcohol is literally the only thing he can think of. He wants Derek to stay, not find him a freak and he desperately doesn't want to offend him on the first date.

“Why do you want me to read it?” The look has gone more relaxed, but he closes the book and there’s a loud pang when the pages smash together.

“I… love your voice, to be honest.” Well. Not completely honest, but it is still very much the truth. He feels like he could listen to that husky voice forever without getting bored and that's saying something coming from him. Derek’s face goes blank. At first, Stiles thinks he'll be punched or left but then he realises that Derek is literally _stunned_.

“How far have you read?”

“I… haven’t started yet?” Stiles offers.

“Hm.” Derek looks a tad surprised.

“What?”

“It’s just funny, you don’t strike me as a guy who would come... unprepared.” Which hits close to Stiles’ heart, because he _is_ always prepared. He always has a comeback, he always knows more than he needs to, he is the freaking definition of prepared. Yet, here Derek is, asking questions Stiles don’t know how to answer and saying things he hadn’t planned for.

“It’s not out as audiobook yet,” Stiles says finally and hopes that Derek will just leave it at that. He doesn’t want to have to explain it all, not yet, not now. But of course, Stiles has already pressed his luck too far today.

“Concentration problems that bad, huh?”

Why did Stiles have to blurt half his life to this man last time, the first time, they met? AND, why did this man remember stuff that Stiles told him that time? “Something like that.” It’s not a good enough answer he realizes when the eyebrow is back up on Derek’s face. Stiles sighs, looks away and stomps the ground. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Okay,” Derek says and there’s something so final in his tone, that he won’t ask or push so Stiles tells him anyway.

“I can’t read, okay?” The older man’s second eyebrow flies up to his first and Stiles hurries to continue explaining because once he’s started, there’s just no going back. “I’ve always been really bad at concentrating, yes, like I told you, but when I was younger nobody really understood just how bad it was and I didn’t get a proper evaluation until I was fifteen. Everyone just thought I was one of the monkeys in the class, which I was, but mostly so nobody could tell I didn’t understand what they were talking about. I mean, I pretended to have forgotten to do my homework and played it off as a joke all the time and my teacher didn’t really have high hopes for me so they never really… got it. They put me on Adderall when I started high school and gave me all this special training to learn how to read but at that age I was a stubborn little brat and thought reading was a bitch and the books they tried getting me to learn from was for _seven-year-olds_ so I wasn’t really a fan of the whole “words”-thing. I can recognize words, if I’ve seen them a million times so it’s more of a picture for me rather than letters but then it also can’t be written with some sort of weird font or anything because I don’t know the letters of the words individually.” Probably the shortest and longest explanation anyone has ever gotten from him about the subject; longest because really, he has not told anyone all of those things before, except Scott of course, and shortest because he talked so fast he’s not even sure Derek apprehended everything.

“That is...” Derek begins but looks at Stiles like he has no idea how to continue.

“...just how it is, I guess?” Stiles finishes the sentence. “Is that going to be a problem for you?”

“I don’t see why it should be? You’re in college so you can obviously deal with it, why shouldn’t I? You have to tell me more about it though, I’ve never known anyone like you before.”

“Me being illiterate is not going to be the only thing you say that about, baby.” Stiles does not clasp his hand over his mouth like he wants to, he simply pretends that he didn’t just fucking call Derek freaking Hale ‘baby’. He figures no one has ever said that to Derek like that before, and that that is the only reason why he gets away with it. Derek scoffs but when he talks, it’s gruff and tantalizing.

“So you have other secrets?”

“Oh, I have _plenty_ ,” Stiles promises as smugly as he can.

Derek follows him into the kitchen, almost awkwardly leans against the kitchen counter as Stiles pops open a bottle. He doesn’t know shit about wine, but Lydia helped him pick it out. At least she knows her way around it, Stiles just likes everything.

Stiles holds out a filled glass for Derek, who hesitates taking it. “Did you buy the book just because we had a date planned?” Because it isn’t just any book. It’s _Derek’s_ book. How the man has found time to write it, Stiles has no idea because he feels like he can’t even juggle college, keeping his apartment clean and his barely existing social life without failing at least one of the three.

“Self-absorbed much?” Stiles scoffs and shakes his head. “No, I’ve had it for a couple of weeks. Scott usually reads for me but he’s been busy.” Stiles also shakes the glass a little, only then does Derek accepts it.

“And Scott is?” he asks, casually but somehow with keen interest. Stiles wonders how he does that.

“Well, he _would_ be my husband, if he wasn’t so damn straight, and you know, in love with his girlfriend.”

Derek smirks. “Hate it when that happens.”

Stiles almost chokes on his first sip of wine. “Pst, like you’ve ever hit on a guy and he’s gone ‘sorry, dude, I’m not into your manliness and sexy ass, but thanks for asking’.” Derek looks down his glass and absently rubs his lip against the rim. It makes Stiles want to _devour_ him.

“I’ve never hit on a guy, so I wouldn’t know,” Derek finally says quietly.

“You’ve never what now?”

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Okay,” Stiles says even if he’s itching to know more.

Derek isn’t like Stiles; he doesn’t blurt his whole life story because Stiles gives him the opportunity _not_ to.

Stiles holds his glass out. “To me,” he says and Derek looks up again. “For hitting on a guy totally out of my league, and to you, for accepting such a date.”

Derek lowers his glass. “I won’t toast to that,” he says.

Stiles deflates slightly. “Uhm, what do you want to toast to then?” he asks.

“To you, for talking so much I forgot to be nervous that you were a really good looking bloke, and to me for being brave enough to accept your offer.” Derek holds his glass up.

Stiles blushes but wears it proudly and he puffs his chest. “That, is a splendid toast.”

They clink their glasses together and Stiles smiles at Derek over the top of his glass. Derek looks calm. He looks good, just as he is, and in Stiles kitchen. Stiles would very much like to grow used to having him there. Instead of giving into those sort of thoughts, he doesn’t allow himself to go overboard, doesn’t allow himself to fantasise about a future which might not, and most probably won’t, happen.

“Alright then,” Derek agrees, but to what Stiles doesn’t know. Then the other man gestures for Stiles to follow him, as he turns towards the living room again, saying, “I’ll read you a chapter.”

Stiles stays put for a second, mouth hanging open and then he skids after Derek as fast as he possibly can.

Derek, when he starts reading, sounds awfully nervous, but Stiles asks questions from the third sentence and every couple sentence forward, making the other man tug at the corners of his mouth and relax around the words pretty soon. Stiles interrupts a lot, asking why Derek used that specific word or what does that mean, or if he thought about how _that_ could be interpreted? When he exclaims “You totally _stole_ that line from the early days of _Wolves among us_ , you shit!” Derek looks impressed that Stiles knows this rather than creeped out, which Stiles is very thankful about.

“Is it plagiarism if it’s your own work, though?” Derek asks and Stiles, exasperated, cannot answer him.

Derek’s extremely witty. Not only in writing, and he has Stiles bubbling every now and then, the wine inducing the effect. The author doesn’t laugh a whole lot, but the more Stiles does, the more the other man smiles. It feels more like this is how Derek is, rather than Stiles is not funny in return.

The evening progresses like that, they talk more than Derek reads, but he does read, and Stiles pours another glass of wine, not to get them drunk but they do get pleasantly buzzed. At some point, Stiles lies down on the couch, the back of his head in Derek’s lap (“This alright?”, “Yeah, sure.”) and at some point, Derek’s hand finds it’s way into Stiles’ hair. Stiles can look at him while he reads and Derek keeps blushing every time he looks down at Stiles. Stiles likes to think it’s because his head is inches away from Derek’s crotch, because that has _him_ blushing a few times too, but right now, Stiles wouldn’t trade this for sex. This is easy, and despite sex being wonderful, this is also something Stiles is craving on an even deeper level. To just be comfortable. Playful. To, well, maybe, fall in love.

Stiles has closed his eyes when Derek turns quiet and he puts the book down. He’s not sleeping, but he feels like he might soon and Derek whispers, “You alright there, Stiles?”

Stiles grunts and snuggles down and Derek chuckles lightly. The sound makes Stiles want to cry because it’s so beautiful. He proceeds to put both of his hands on Stiles’ head, the one in his hair and the other one now cupping his jaw, stroking his chin. Stiles smiles.

“Talk to me about sex,” Derek says.

Stiles frowns, eyes still closed. “What?” he asks and Derek just repeats the statement. “In what way?”

“Any way you want.”

Stiles laughs. “Well, I guess it depends,” he says. “Sex with yourself or sex with someone else?”

Derek hums but in such a way that he knows what he wants to say, but doesn’t want to say it. Finally, he says quietly, “With someone else.”

Stiles opens his eyes, “Why do you-” but Derek puts his hand over Stiles’ eyelids and Stiles lets him have his way, grinning. “Are you blushing, Derek? Are you embarrassed?”

It’s quiet for a while, before Derek takes a deep breath. “I’m a virgin.”

“Now, that’s what I call top of the line secret,” Stiles says and then, with Derek’s hand still covering his eyes, with Derek’s fingers rubbing at his scalp, Stiles starts talking about sex. About how it’s fun and messy (in more ways than one) and how it always ends up sounding weird but when you’re into it, it just doesn’t really matter, and how amazing it is with someone who has managed to learn specifics about you and your body and about how it can be an exploration. About how sometimes, just the look of things, or the thought of what will come next is enough for everything to spike into something even better. About how it leaves you exposed. About how it sucks to have to see your ex with another person, because you know that they most probably are having way better sex than you guys ever did because they’ve dated for six months now and you only got to be hers for three. When he quiets out, it isn’t because he doesn’t have anything more to say, it’s just that Derek is scratching his neck and it feels really good, and is very distracting.

“I should probably get going,” Derek says after a while of silence. Stiles peeks, Derek’s hand has been gone for a while but he teases him, if he decides to put it back again. Derek purses his lips as if to not smile.

“Yeah, I’m getting real sleepy. How do people go on dinner dates super late and not end up falling asleep at the table?”

“Hell if I know,” Derek says and they both giggle. It’s disgustingly sweet. Stiles gets up first, because otherwise Derek literally can’t, and he offers a hand to help Derek up, a hand Derek takes. Stiles decides to keep holding it, as they go out to the hallway. Derek looks at their joined hands as they come to a stand still and he rubs a thumb over Stiles’ knuckles before letting go in favour of putting his jacket back on. Stiles leans back against the wall.

“How’s the first time?” Derek asks, over his shoulder, his adorable pink shade is back and Stiles cocks his head.

“What? Sleeping with someone else? With another guy?” Stiles shrugs. “Generally the first time is basically like when you’re by yourself but with another person.”

Derek’s blush goes deeper when he says, “So, like, embarrassing and mildly disappointing?”

Stiles snorts. “I guess, yeah, that’s… that can be a pretty accurate description.”

Derek turns around, facing Stiles, but his face is turned to the floor.  “I’d… I think we should… do that. Next time.”

“ _Next time_?” Stiles echoes. “There will be a next time?”

“Yeah, I mean if you… if you want to?”

Stiles just laughs because Derek’s stupid to think anything else. Then he sobers up and takes a step forward. Derek stays put, but he looks like he might push Stiles away if he gets too close. Stiles isn’t touching him, but his body screams for it and he asks, “Can I kiss you good night?”

Derek looks speechless for a moment, and then he nods. Stiles nods too, like a follow-up questions and Derek opens his mouth to say, “Yes,” all air and no power. Stiles only has to tilt his head up a little, and Derek just has to tilt his down a smidge and then Stiles lets his slightly opened mouth meet Derek’s in a slow, significant kiss.

“This,” Stiles says once he has managed to restrain himself and pulled back, “this whole night, was _awesome_.” Derek openes his eyes, humming his agreement and smiling shyly. They look at each other for a while before bursting out big grins. Stiles follows Derek out, stands on the stairs while Derek bites his lips.

“I’ll text you,” he says and takes a step down.

“You’ll _call_ me,” Stiles corrects him with a grin as Derek takes another step.

He points towards Stiles. “Right, call you, I’ll call you.” Then he stops. And just… stares at Stiles for a second before he’s suddenly up by the door again, in front of Stiles, looking down at him like Stiles could give him the world.

“Go ahead, big guy,” Stiles permissions and Derek steadies himself with one of his giant hands on the back of Stiles’ neck and _applies_ himself onto Stiles, a dry press of lips to Stiles’ mouth, body so close, so warm. It makes Stiles feel weak at the knees.

When Derek pulls back, he again promises, “I’ll call you.”

 _“I’ll fuck you,”_ Stiles doesn't joke because that would be inappropriate so he only nods, smiling. Derek goes all the way to his car this times and gets in. Stiles leans down to see him and waves; Derek nods, once, before driving away. When Stiles can no longer see his car, he almost topples over because _holy shit_ he was just on a date that was super awesome, with an amazing guy and there will be  _another_ _one_? It’s hard to comprehend. He had put up such a wall of mystery around Derek Hale and now, all he feels is that Derek can tell him or not tell him whatever he wants, as long as he takes Stiles on that second date, as long as he keeps smiling like that, as long as he keeps reading to Stiles from his book. Stiles can’t help but smile for himself before walking into his apartment and closing the door behind him. _Lo and behold, friends,_ he thinks, _for see the future has a lot of good things in store for one Stiles Stilinski._

**Author's Note:**

> And again, no, this is the only chapter there'll ever be.


End file.
